If We Make It Through December
by Flock of Waa-Waas
Summary: Inspired by a comment of Diane's in "A Ditch in Time" where she mentions that Sam bought her a set of steak knives for Christmas, this story describes how Diane deals with that blunder... as well as a few others. How will Sam and Diane's relationship progress over the holiday?


**A/N: Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all my fellow fanfictioners! I wrote this story in only two hours and it has only been proofread by me, so please forgive any mistakes that may be present! :) I hope you enjoy it!**

It was a frigid and windy December 23rd in Boston, and the city streets were gaining a light dusting of snow. It was late, now past midnight, and Diane was riding shotgun in Sam's Corvette watching the night's eerily quiet cityscape roll by. Sam was busy fiddling with the radio dial, hellbent on finding one radio station that wasn't playing Christmas songs.

"Every station-even my favorite classic rock station-is only playing 'Jingle Bells!'" he complained, finally flicking the radio off.

"Sam, where's your Christmas cheer?" Diane joked, squeezing his arm.

"Yeah, well, they've been playing it since Thanksgiving! Isn't only one week enough?"

She shrugged. "For some Scrooges like you, maybe. Although if I hear 'Santa Baby' one more time I just might vomit."

He glanced over to her. "Not on the upholstery, please."

She let out an annoyed scoff. "Even if I did get sick, I know of _someone_ who wouldn't be over to visit me!"

Suddenly, he whipped over to the curb and slammed the car into park.

"I told you! I didn't want to get sick, and I'm sorry for not visiting you! But do I need to pay for this for the rest of my life?!" he exploded, eyes wide.

"Oh, and that was so considerate of you when you finally did show up a week later! I have news for you, Sam! You could have at least called! The flu isn't contagious over the phone!"

"I did call! I called!"

"Once," she snapped, "And I was asleep!"

"I figured you needed your rest," he added weakly.

"Oh, _bull_!"

Sam shook his head and let the silence hang in the air as he pulled away from the curb again, white knuckles on the steering wheel. He drove a few blocks down the street when she finally noticed that she was sniffling. He took it as his cue to pull over again, and this time he tried a different approach: laying on the Sammy Malone charm.

He gingerly patted her shoulder and turned to look at her. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for not visiting when you were sick. Boyfriends are supposed to be there, and I wasn't. I can't take back the past, but I can try better in the future."

She picked a tissue out of her pocket and wiped the corners of her eyes. "It just... would have meant a lot to me if you had been there. It was an incredibly lonely week."

He ran the back of his hand down the sleeve of her jacket until his hand met hers. Their fingers entwined.

"Look, we're going to have a great first Christmas together. I've got your present in the back, if you want to open it now, even. It might cheer you up," he offered.

She shrugged, then smiled weakly. "What could it hurt?"

He whirled around and began rummaging through things until he finally presented her with an unwrapped box.

"Sorry, I... didn't have time to wrap it," he admitted.

She eyed the image on the front of the box. Steak knives. He had bought her a set of steak knives. And very cheap-looking ones, at that.

 _This is making things better-how?_ she thought to herself.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

"So... you like them?"

 _I'd like them shoved somewhere!_

"Yes. They're... very nice. I needed these. Thank you."

He smiled a self-satisfied smirk that made her want to deck him. "You're welcome."

He pulled away from the curb again, and the car was once again met with dead silence. Diane stared at the box of knives in her lap and secretly plotted murder. Sam was oblivious to her dislike of his gift, but decided to accept the silence instead of risking getting into another argument. She was armed now, after all.

A few blocks closer to their destination, she finally spoke.

"Sam? Could we maybe stop at Cheers for a moment? I have to fix my mascara. It's burning my eyes a little."

"Sure. No problem."

When they reached their destination, Diane got out of the car and headed down the steps into Cheers. Sam opted to keep the car running and wait for her. He didn't even notice that she took the set of knives with her.

As soon as she made it through the door, Carla was already ready to strike. Diane rushed past her into the pool room.

"Whoa, Whitey looks like she's going postal! Did Sam finally kick the Stick to the curb?"

Diane turned to glare at her, as the sound of Cliff's explanation of the slang, "going postal" emanated from the bar to the back room. She opened the box of steak knives and dumped the contents onto the pool table. She picked one up, feeling the sharpened metal blade against her fingertips, eyeing the dart board hanging on the wall untouched. In a fit of anger, she threw the knife and watched as it flew end over end, before embedding into the dart board with a satisfying "sproing." She continued throwing the steak knives at the dart board until they were all embedded into the felt. To top things off, she picked up a piece of chalk and scrawled her final message on the chalkboard: "Goodbye, Sam!"

She brushed by Carla once again as she hurried out of the pool room and back out the door. Carla stared at the dartboard and her message on the wall and chuckled.

"I told him that giving knives to that nut was a bad idea!"

She stared at the blades jutting out from the wall once again.

"Boy, we should get her in the darts league!" Carla hollered, to no one in particular.

Diane made her way up the stairs again, and peered over the railing to find Sam meticulously combing his hair in the rearview mirror. She pulled the collar of her coat up around her face, and strolled down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She was taking the bus home by herself, and she'd let him find her note.

A half an hour ticked by when Sam decided to get out of the car and see what was possibly taking her so long. He couldn't imagine that she'd stop to chit-chat with Norm, Cliff, Coach, or Carla, and he hoped that she hadn't ditched him. As soon as he entered the front door, his fears were realized with a comment from Carla.

"So..." she began, with a satisfied smirk. "You and Bleach Bag having problems?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed. "Why? Where is she?"

Carla didn't speak, instead grabbing the sleeve of his Red Sox jacket to pull him into the pool room. Carla gestured to the dart board, and that's all he needed to see.

"Oh, god! I knew she wouldn't like my present!" he exclaimed, hiding his head in his hands. "Where'd she go? Is she still in here?"

Carla shook her head. "No, she left without saying anything. You sure know how to pick 'em, Sammy. She was downright rude!"

"I have to go find her and tell her I'm sorry."

Carla scoffed loudly. "Why?! You should be celebrating!"

Sam turned to look at her. "Carla, I screwed up. I was a jerk, okay? We got into a fight about how I didn't visit her when she was sick, and now she hated the Christmas gift I got her. I won't win any points by just letting it go this time."

Carla shrugged. "Do what you have to do, but call me if you need me to put an ad in the paper for another waitress tomorrow."

* * *

The bus ride home was lonely for Diane as she watched all the Christmas lights of the city roll past her window. The first thing she wanted to do when she got home was put on a kettle of tea and curl up with a good book, and try to forget about Sam.

He had decided he wouldn't let her forget.

Around midnight, she heard him knocking at the door and calling her name. He apologized, profusely, but she wasn't ready to make nice. Not yet. She padded into her bedroom and closed the door, seeking a quieter refuge before bed. About fifteen minutes later, the knocking stopped, and she assumed he had called it a night.

The next morning, she awoke to the phone ringing, and she immediately assumed it was Sam. He called her five times in an hour, and just as she was ready to disconnect the phone line, it rang a sixth. This time, she decided to pick up.

"Listen, calling me incessantly isn't going to change things. Nor will apologizing profusely at my doorstep after midnight. It was actually rather annoying!" she yelled into the phone. She heard him sigh-but was it relief, or frustration?

"Diane, you don't want to hear me say I'm sorry, so I won't say it. I just called for a chance to make things right with you. Can we pretend like last night never happened and go on with our lives today? It's Christmas Eve, after all..."

She exhaled. "Sam, I already have other plans. I told some of my classmates that I'd volunteer with them at the homeless shelter, serving meals."

It wasn't a complete lie; she had initially turned down her classmates in favor of spending the day with Sam, but now she figured that helping out a charity wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Okay," he said simply. She hated when he was brief like that.

"Okay? Well, thanks for calling?"

"Thanks for picking up. See you tonight."

Before she could ask what he could possibly mean by "see you tonight," he had said a quick goodbye and hung up.

Well, she admitted to herself, dating Sam Malone never ceased to entertain her!

* * *

The entire time she was standing in an apron behind the counter at the soup kitchen, she was thinking about him. She knew she could have handled the situation better, but his general nonchalance about their romance maddened her. One minute he'd pull off a grand romantic stunt, and the next he would seem to have no idea whatsoever in how to treat a woman. Still, she hoped that his latest surprise would be a romantic one.

It was five o' clock by the time she left the shelter. Her fellow classmates thanked and hugged her for her participation, and after saying her goodbyes she turned and headed for the bus stop.

And then she saw him standing there.

A few paces ahead of her stood Sam Malone, holding a bouquet of fresh roses.

He must have the florist on speed dial by now, she thought to herself, grinning. She sure couldn't stay mad at him for long!

She walked over to him, and he slung his arm over her shoulder like nothing had ever happened.

"Missed you, sweetheart," he said, pressing a quick peck on her cheek. He handed her the rose bouquet, which she instinctively smelled.

"Oh I... missed you too," she admitted, letting her arm fall around his waist as they strolled to his Corvette. "I knew you had something up your sleeve. You always do."

He shrugged. "Well, you gave me all night and all day to think about it, so here I am."

He opened the passenger's side door of the car to let her in, then ran over to the driver's side before she had the chance to get out and leave him again.

"I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to be so disrespectful about the gift you gave. It's the thought that counts," she explained once he was behind the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry, too. I just... I just don't know what to buy for chicks!"

Diane scoffed. "Is that what I am, Sam? A chick?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Well-yeah, I think we've established that you're a female."

She slapped his shoulder through his puffy winter coat. "Stop it! You know that's not what I meant! I mean, am I a 'chick' to you, or your girlfriend?"

"You're my girlfriend, _and_ you're my chick."

"Well, it's not Browning, but it'll do," Diane said with a shrug. She could take any form of commitment from him she could get at this point in the relationship.

"Now, _chick_ , can we head off to spend Christmas together, or what?"

"We may."

He curled his fingers around hers as they started off with admiring Boston's Christmas lights, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Is it okay if we stop at the bar for a second? There's something I need to get," he asked as they neared Cheers.

"Okay, that'll be fine."

* * *

Once they reached the darkened front door of Cheers, Diane finally asked what exactly he needed to do there.

"We're going on the roof for a second," he said, unlocking the door. "I have to measure the bracket for the satellite dish I'm going to order."

They stepped past Tecumseh and over to the stairs leading up to Melville's, which was also closed for the holidays.

"Oh, you're getting a new satellite dish? Does this mean you'll get more... sports channels?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it."

He climbed a few stairs leading up to the seafood restaurant before turning around to add, "I ordered it for you, sweetheart. I know how you love to watch the hockey fights."

She chuckled at his wild-eyed grin as they continued on to the roof. It was completely dark, except for the dim moonlight seeping through the night's sky.

"Sam? How are we going to see what we're doing? Did you bring a flashlight?"

He let go of her hand.

"Sam? Answer me!"

She heard a click, and then her eyes were suddenly blinded by bright, colorful, twinkling lights. Laid out before her was a complete picturesque Christmas lights display, complete with sparkling reindeer and a few snowmen. In that moment, her eyes filled with joy, and he just smiled.

"Sam! Did you do all this?" she asked in astonishment.

"Yes. For you, sweetheart," he said, wrapping his arm around her again.

"But... when did you set this up? And where did you get all of these lights?"

"Coach was suckered by one of those traveling salesmen. He ordered a whole bunch for the bar, and they were just sitting in storage, so I put them up last night."

She hugged him tighter. "Thank you. Thank you for staying up, all through the night, just to make our first Christmas special."

She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek, which he returned with a passionate kiss on the lips. In that moment, time stood still.

He pulled away slowly and whispered in her ear, "But this isn't all."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "What do you mean?"

He ushered her along to the other side of the roof, where a makeshift awning decorated with lights stood, and under it was a set dinner table.

"Oh! You made us dinner?"

"Well, I bribed a chef from Melville's to cook us dinner," he admitted.

She kissed him again in appreciation. "Thank you, Sammy."

* * *

Their Christmas Eve dinner of seafood from Melville's prompted them to discuss their relationship and their future together in-depth, which Diane liked. If wasn't very often that her boyfriend could play the part of the romantic lead, straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but on this night he succeeded in doing so. The flowers, the lights, and the dinner were perfect.

It was also Sam's idea to pull out a few warm blankets and a thermos of cocoa he had brought to lay back and watch the stars. He dimmed some of the Christmas lights, and they were fortunate enough to see some constellations dotting the night's sky.

"You know, you really surprised me," Diane said, her head resting on his chest.

He curled some blonde strands of her hair around his fingertips. "I tried. I tried to make things better."

"And you did."

She wound his fingers around hers and checked his wristwatch for the time.

"It's already midnight," she enthused.

"Yeah? Well, then Merry Christmas, Diane."

"Merry Christmas, Sam."

He hesitated for a moment before adding, "So, I have this other surprise set up at my place..."

"It isn't a surprise if you tell me about it, Sam."

"Yeah, but I think you'll like this one better," he said before kissing her once again.

She shrugged slightly. "Well, whatever it is, it has to be better than steak knives!"

"Oh, here we go again!"

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope that it wasn't too cheesy, but hey, the Hallmark channel has an entire media channel dedicated to cheesy holiday stuff. :) Merry Christmas!**


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